


I Believe in Ghosts (Good Ghosts)

by Chaos_Is_A_Ladder



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (also not really that "supernatural" either), Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Death, F/F, Ghosts, Past Character Death, just melancholy, not super sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:11:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Is_A_Ladder/pseuds/Chaos_Is_A_Ladder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma has passed away, but her spirit still haunts the house that she shared with Daisy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Believe in Ghosts (Good Ghosts)

**Author's Note:**

> This idea struck me, and it struck me hard. I felt the need to get it down in writing as quickly as I could, so I apologize for any roughness that occurred because of that. This is for the AU: Supernatural prompt of the femslash february trope bingo. Also posted on my tumblr: http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/post/139202374616/i-believe-in-ghosts-good-ghosts

Daisy sits beneath the tree in the front lawn of her house, her back resting against the gnarled bark. It’s mid-morning, now, and the sun floods through the gaps in the leaves.

This used to be Jemma’s favorite spot to sit and think. Daisy remembers fondly how she would be working in the kitchen and look out to see Jemma with a smile on her face as she worked out the secrets of the universe in her worn, leather-bound journal.

Now, though, the journal rests in Daisy’s hands, with the promise that she’d fill the rest of the pages. Daisy can’t quite sketch out molecules or fill a page with mathematical equations like Jemma did, but she still tries her best. It’s what Jemma had wanted.

And on some rare mornings when Daisy is out beneath the tree in the front lawn, she swears that she can see Jemma looking through that kitchen window out at her. It’s a comforting reversal of roles they once held. Jemma will only appear in momentary glances, though, and won’t be there when Daisy looks again.

Daisy doesn’t know if she believes in ghosts. But she believes in Jemma.

Daisy has mentioned seeing Jemma to her friends, casually, but they don’t believe her. Daisy assures them that it only happens rarely, that she’s not clinging on to fragments of the past or is having trouble letting go. It’s been a whole year, after all, since Jemma passed on.

Besides, Daisy has seen Jemma everywhere in their home - in the swirls of steam from the tea kettle, in the pattern of her crumpled sheets in the morning, in the motes of dust in a sunbeam. Her energy still lingers in the house, and Daisy can feel it.

Sometimes, when Daisy is working, she’ll see Jemma’s hazy silhouette reflected in her computer screen. She’ll only appear for a moment, but Daisy knows that she’s there. And Jemma is always smiling.

It’s never fearful, but never truly comforting, either. It simply is.

Jemma passed away in the early morning, halfway out of a dream, as the dawn light trickled over the horizon. It’s been a whole year.

That night, as Daisy is lying in bed, ready to sleep, she delivers three simple words to the ceiling.

“Good night, Jemma,” Daisy whispers.

Daisy has done this for every night that she’s seen Jemma’s ghost around the house. If her wife-that-was is still haunting this place, saying good night is really the least she can do. Daisy quickly drifts off to sleep not too long after.

And, when she’s sure that Daisy is in a deep slumber, Jemma will appear, fully, for more than an offhanded glance’s moment. Jemma’s ghost fills their room with a warm, blue light as she hovers above the bed they once shared. She appears as she was, beautiful, radiant, with a smile on her face but sadness in her eyes.

“Good night, my love, my Skye, my Daisy,” Jemma whispers back.

Jemma floats a little closer and kisses Daisy on the forehead, before vanishing once again.

And in the morning, Daisy will swear that she heard Jemma wishing her a good night, but could have just been the whistling of the wind through the tree in the front lawn.

**Author's Note:**

> I still love feedback, any and all feedback.


End file.
